


Silent Apologies

by Semi_problematic



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, As fluffy as cegan can get tbh, Fist Fights, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:31:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Semi_problematic/pseuds/Semi_problematic
Summary: "Carl." Negan sighed. He knew there was no winning this argument. Carl didn't care, which was beyond frustrating. There was no way to threaten him. To weaken him. "Look. How about this? You can hit me to make up for me hitting your dad."Carl stopped, twisting around and looking back at Negan. "What?" He started to walk towards Negan, his hands falling limp at his sides again. "Are you telling me to hit you?"





	Silent Apologies

**Author's Note:**

> Carl is aged up to 18/19

"Look, kid-" Negan followed Carl down the hall, taking a few deep breaths. "You're being dramatic, I mean, it wasn't that bad." He grabbed Carls wrist, yanking the smaller boy back into his chest. The top of his hat grazed Negans chin. 

Carl yanked his wrist out of his grip, Negans nails scraping across his skin. "I am not a kid." He stepped back, balling his hands into fists. "And you beat my dad! Last time I checked, that's a huge fucking deal!" 

Negan chuckled which only proceeded to annoy Carl more. His eye narrowed and he stepped towards Negan quickly. Within seconds Carl was staring up at him. Negan was positive that the kid was planning a million different ways to kill Negan. Beat him. Stab him. Shoot him. Hell, even torture him. Carl was a darker one. A dangerous one. 

"Look, I'm sorry." Laughter laced through Negans voice, dancing across his words. "You're cute when you're all mad. With the little glare and the cowboy hat. Its like you're a grumpy kid." 

Carl slammed his fists into Negans chest. "You. Beat. My. Dad." Christ, this kid would not get over this. "And he did nothing to you, nothing. It was only to make you look like a man." Carl laughed, he looked insane, really, then again, Carl was always a little off. A little too angry. A little too cold. A little too brave. A little too much. "Do you think we forgot about your giant ass balls? Or your huge dick? Is there a need to fucking go about waving it in their faces? We already fear you." Carl didn't fear him. "What more do you want?"

Negan chuckled, reaching out and touching Carls jaw with his fingers. "Maybe tell me how big my dick is again. Its been a while since I've screwed anyone. I miss it." 

Carl moved away from his touch. "You are infuriating! Oh my god! Are you stupid or are you just choosing to piss me off?" 

"Dumb question." Negan followed him, grabbing his jaw, pinkie gliding across the top of Carls throat. "I do everything just to annoy you. In fact, this whole relationship is built on you being a bad boy instead of a good little solider and me fucking you for the ego boost of fucking my enemy's son." He tilted Carls head up, fingers pressing into his bones. There would be bruises there tomorrow, in the shape of Negans finger prints. In the shape of their love. "Now that we've gone over that, do I need to remind you we are at war?"

Carl rolled his eye, grabbing Negans wrist and gripping it just as tight. "Hes my father." 

"And I am your daddy." Negan leaned closer, his eyes never leaving Carls face. "Now which one do you love more?"

"I don't love you." Carl jerked away again, except this time Negans nails clawed his face, red lines being left in his wake. They glowed against Carls pale skin, drops of blood beading at the scratches. "And I'm not your fucking bitch. This has nothing to do with us."

"It has everything to do with us. You ride my dick as some sort of sick teenage rebellion. You wanna be a bad boy and I give you that." Negan pressed his finger to Carls chest. He could feel his bones. Boy was always too thin. "And you like it. You like feeling bad, so you come back. Day after day. Week after week. Drinking me up like I'm your favorite beer."

Carl looked away for the first time, shying away. His shoulders fell and his fingers dropped, grazing the fabric of his dirty, too big, too old jeans.

"Now, Carl, you're smart, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe when you got shot in the fucking face that bullet grazed your brain and made you a lot stupider. Who knows?" Negan smiled down at him. His face didn't match his voice. His voice was cutting through Carl like a knife while his face seemed soft, almost sorry. Negan was good actor. "But your dad hurt me, he hurt my people, and so did you. So if I wanna beat his fucking face in, I can, and I will, and no amount of sex will change that." 

Carl leaned against the wall, hiding behind his hair. His hat was tipped down low and his eye was on the floor. He took a deep breath before pushing himself off the wall. Negan didn't like fear. He didn't like crying or giving up. He liked bravery and carelessness. "Whatever. I don't give a shit." He walked down the hall again, gripping the hem of his shirt, balling it up in his fists. 

"Really? Well, Jesus fucking Christ. You just throw a fit, lecture me all the way home, give me the silent treatment as we walk up the steps, lecture me again, and now you're saying its nothing." Negan combed his fingers through his hair, the dried blood stood out against his sleek black hair. "You're really acting like one of my little wives. You that prissy now?" 

"Fuck off." Carl didn't turn around. "I don't know why I came home with you. My dad needs me and I'm here." He shook his head to himself as if he was answering his own question. 

"Carl." Negan sighed. He knew there was no winning this argument. Carl didn't care, which was beyond frustrating. There was no way to threaten him. To weaken him. "Look. How about this? You can hit me to make up for me hitting your dad."

Carl stopped, twisting around and looking back at Negan. "What?" He started to walk towards Negan, his hands falling limp at his sides again. "Are you telling me to hit you?"

"I mean, I'm not telling you to but if you wanted t-" 

Carls fist slammed into Negans jaw so hard the bones cracked. Negan stumbled into the wall and Carl stood with his chest heaving. Negan rubbed his jaw, running his tongue along his teeth. Blood. Its not like Carl hasn't made him taste blood before.

"How did that feel?" Negan chuckled, crossing his arms.

"Wasn't enough." Carl replied. He stood his ground, fists at his sides. "But it'll have to do until I get back."

"You punch me and then you leave?" Negan pretended to sound hurt. "Wow, Carl, I thought we were having a moment. I thought we had something."

"Bye, Negan." Carl didn't glance over his shoulder, no matter how badly he wanted to. 

"You're a little shit, you know that?" Negan picked up Lucille and pointed it at Carl. "You, Carl mother fucking Grimes, are a little shit."

"Your little shit!" Carl called as he began going down the steps.

"What?" 

"I'm your little shit!" 

Once Carl was gone it was silent. Blood was still pooling in his mouth. 

Negan was always careful with sharp objects, but he would let Carl cut him every time.


End file.
